


Products of Combustion

by Kalliopestarmist (KalliopeStarmist)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Ba Sing Se, Epistolary, Gen, Post-Series, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 11:43:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KalliopeStarmist/pseuds/Kalliopestarmist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Azula bargains with her brother for her freedom and is sent to Ba Sing Se to work at The Jasmine Dragon. Surrounded by Earth commoners and with only her traitorous uncle for company, she turns to the Earth Kingdom postal system for a sympathetic ear...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write an epistolary novel, ever since I was a little girl. This is close enough.  
> Started a while ago (when I first finished A:TLA) and cross-posted from my fanfic LJ. I'm not satisfied with the prologue, but overall I'm very happy with where this fic is going.   
> The formatting for this fic is an ongoing process while I play around with everything AO3 has to offer. I regret nothing.

Azula had not had many visitors. Perhaps it had something to do with being a maximum security prisoner. Perhaps because even the guards were unwilling to spend much time with someone who could incinerate everything in the cell if she were feeling a bit suicidal. Perhaps it was simply that few people wanted to remember that Firelord Ozai had a daughter, let alone that she was still alive.  
  
    So Zuko was surprised to hear his sister having a lively conversation when he stopped by. "Is she... with someone in there?" he asked the guard, who was disconcertingly unfazed by the chatter coming from inside the cell.  
  
    "Nope."  
  
    "...she's..." Zuko started to ask a question, but thought better of it. "I'll just go deal with her," he sighed, pulling open the cell door.  
  
    Azula was sitting composedly in the middle of her cell, and she beamed at him when he walked in. "Zuzu, how nice to see you. We were just talking about you."  
  
    "I know I'm going to regret letting you get me off topic before I even start, but _who_ exactly was just talking about me?"  
  
    She gestured around the empty cell. "We were having a tea party, and I was telling them about how you used to make cupcakes for us." She stared at him, just holding back a smile, waiting for some kind of response. When he only stared stonily back, she continued as though she hadn't expected a reaction. "So, what brings you to my humble abode? Have the guards been complaining that I'm too psychotic? Am I being reprimanded for bad behavior?"  
  
    Zuko blinked, then rallied his mental forces and resumed the conversation the way he had planned it in the mirror that morning. "I am going to ask you a question, and for the first time in your sociopathic life, you are going to tell the truth."  
  
    "No need to be so dramatic. I'd've invited you to the party if you let me have the stationary to write you with."  
  
    "Tell me what happened to Mother."  
  
    For a moment, Azula looked at him like he had gone crazy, which was ironic, considering. But, she whipped her face back into its usual detached expression and answered casually, "We lost her, to lend the euphemism a more literal meaning."  
  
    "Where is she?"  
  
    "Buried in the garden? Personally, I was always suspicious of that bed of hibiscus near the east wing. Now, really, _must_ we discuss this with company present?"  
  
    "If Father told anyone where she is, he told you."  
  
    "Zuzu, I could keep picking at you to watch you get angrier and angrier, which, believe me, would be a treat after a month in solitary confinement, but I'm curious. You broke your vow to never speak to me again... to talk about Mother?"  
  
    "Don't take that condescending tone with me! You can't treat me like a child anymore!"  
  
    "I knew you couldn't handle this job on your own," Azula said with an exaggerated sigh. She waved at the stone floor next to Zuko. "Sit down and begin at the beginning. Sis'll sort this out for you, like she always does. And then you can betray her. Like you always do."  
  
    Zuko opened his mouth to yell, but stopped himself. After a deep breath, he replied levelly, "I am not asking for your _help_ with anything. I am demanding that you tell me what you know about our mother."  
  
    "You're asking me what I know about our mother?" Azula asked with a snort, her eyes focused on something past him.  
  
    "That would be what I've been talking about for the past ten minutes, yes."  
  
    "Well, she was born on the sixth of-,"  
  
    "I'm serious, Azula."  
  
    "Aren't you always. Fine. She vanished in the middle of the night when I was a child, and we all acted like she never existed. It was something to do with you and Grandpa and Father, none of my business at all. That is what I know about her."  
  
    "You never asked?" Zuko knelt down across from her, "About your own mother?"  
  
    "I was told that she decided that your life was worth more than hers, whatever _that_ means. What about _you_? Why would I know more than you? You're the one- Why the renewed interest all of a sudden?"  
  
    "She's still alive. Banished."  
  
    "Says who?"  
  
    "Father."  
  
    "He did? And you believed him?" Azula sounded either exasperated or triumphant, it was hard to pin down which. "You little fool! I've lied and poked and manipulated you for fourteen years and you still trust anything and everything this family says to you!"  
  
    "What if he's _not_ lying? She's our mother, if there's any chance she might still be out there, we have to-,"  
  
    "You picked up the royal We quicker than I expected."  
  
    "I meant the two of us. You know. Her children."  
  
    "Oh?" Azula smiled coldly. "I'm sorry, you'll have to go looking on your own. See, the Firelord issued this pesky little order that keeps me... otherwise occupied. And I hate to disobey. I guess Mother will have to settle for one dedicated child."  
  
    "Azula, I have given you more explanation than you deserve for why you're here-,"  
  
    "Please, Zuzu, I didn't mean to bring up our old disagreements. Let's start again. It's an honor to see you, brother. If I'd known you were coming I'd have ordered a cake. Here, have some tea," Azula pantomimed pouring a cup of tea and offering it through the bars. Zuko didn't move to take the invisible cup, but she settled back graciously. "Now, let's get down to the bottom of this whole missing mother business. What, exactly, did our father tell you about her, and when?"  
  
    "Day of Black Sun, he-,"  
  
    "Hmph," Azula snorted in disgust, "Was this before or after you announced you were turning traitor?"  
  
    "...your wording choice aside, after that, but before he tried to kill me."  
  
    "To keep you in the room long enough for the sun to come out, no doubt."  
  
    "...possibly..." Zuko admitted.  
  
    "Ehh..." She blew a puff of air at her ragged bangs, muttering, "If only I had been there! I could have told if he was lying..."  
  
    "You're the only one in this family who lies with quite the natural deliberate cruelty this would require."  
  
    "Oh, you flatterer... but it is true, Father doesn't have the gift to pull something like this off the top of his head. I take it you _asked_ him where he sent her?"  
  
    "Of course, but-,"  
  
    "What did he feed you? Unnamed maximum security prisoner?" Zuko glared at one of the stones in front of him, and Azula crowed with laughter. "Oh, Zuzu. You didn't!"  
  
    "I needed to go through the political prisoners anyway, and make sure no one innocent was being held," Zuko muttered defiantly, "It wasn't a complete waste of time."  
  
    "He's just going to lie to you until he runs out of places to send you... and he has nothing better to do than think up places. Unless your dear avatar condones torture? I know a trick with thin bamboo rods and a-,"  
  
    "I am not torturing anybody."  
  
    Azula's mouth twisted into a disapproving frown. "Not the old-fashioned way, anyway."  
  
    "Do you know where our mother might be, or not?"  
  
    "I asked, once or twice, where she was, when I was young and foolish," Azula shifted to lean against the wall with a shrug, "He always acted like he hadn't heard, and I was never dumb enough to press it."  
  
    "Well, if you're sure you don't know anything about it... nothing you happened to overhear or anything..." Zuko shrugged and stood up very deliberately, slowly making his way to the door. "If I find her, you might get another visitor. Aside from your... party goers."  
  
    He was already swinging the metal door open when she spoke up. "Wait!"  
  
    "What, suddenly remember some crucial little detail?"  
  
    "No, but..." Zuko turned then. He had been so sure she was hiding something, but she didn't look like she was coming clean on a lie. She was buying time with him while she worked out a plan. She didn't have enough time to think anything through before he left, though, and she knew it. "I can find out where she is."  
  
    That threw him off guard. She had his attention now, and she relaxed immediately, feeling more comfortable with their old dynamic, one she could work. "Let's make a deal."  
  
    "A deal?"  
  
    "Let me out of this prison."  
  
    "Absolutely not," Zuko snapped. "You're in here for a reason-,"  
  
    "Zuko, I'm fourteen. I'll probably be here another seventy years, locked up in this cell with no visitors, no corespondents, no daylight, no hope. If you think I was crazy when you put me in here, wait until we're old. And you claim this is more humane than executing me! I won't tell you how to do your job, but surely there's somewhere I can go, some out of the way place where I won't be a _danger_."  
  
    "Exile you?"  
  
    "If you choose. I doubt the Fire Nation will feel like home to me for much longer, anyway."  
  
    "New Firelord moves in and there goes the neighborhood?"  
  
    "What have I done that is a _crime_? Fighting for my country, protecting my throne... trying to impress my father..."  
  
    "Stop it, Azula. You know why you're in here. You can barely function without threatening people, how can you pretend I could ever let you out?"  
  
    "If there's no hope for me, then kill me and get it over with!" she exclaimed, getting to her feet. "If I'm worth keeping alive, there has to be a way for me to live outside this prison. Find it..." she leaned against the bars, as close as she could get to him, "And I will find our mother for you."

~~~~

_  
Slip into the cell, cloaked, face hidden. Throw yourself on the ground, face down. Don't shake. I said don't shake. This is nothing to be nervous about. Talk._ "Firelord Ozai, forgive me. I have failed you."  
  
  _Count silently. One, two, three. Long enough for him to look but before he can speak, raise you head, just enough for him to see your eyes. Look remorseful.  
  
_     "Azula?"  
  
    "Father." _Raise your head reluctantly, push back the hood. Raise your body but don't stop kneeling. Never stop kneeling.  
_  
    "What are you doing here?"  
  
    "I've failed you, Father. I was captured by Zuko and one of the Avatar's companions." _Shoot, should have said teachers, that sounds so much more like you were outnumbered. Making this battle look good is hard enough without your stupid mistakes!_ "She interfered with an Agni Kai, but I should never have let him challenge me. I should have known he would cheat-," _Talk faster here, you're ashamed to recount this. Well, obviously, but make sure you sound it. Choke._  
  
    "Hush, daughter. I know you did not betray me."  
  
    _He wants to kill you, can you blame him? Bow your head._ "Father, he means to kill me."  
  
    "You're being foolish. The _Avatar_ ," _Nice sneer, Father._ "would never allow it."  
  
    "The Avatar doesn't know or care what happens to me. This is a family affair, he will not interfere. Tonight may be my only chance to escape, but the country is loyal to Zuko," _What you would give for this to be one of your lies. But focus._ "I have nowhere to go...If there are supporters of ours who will shelter me..."  
  
    _Silence. He knows as well as you do there is no one. Make this worth his while._ "I only need a place to stay until I can rally our allies..."  
  
    _He is thinking about telling you. Zuko was right. It was true. Stop shaking, how many times do I have to tell you? One more push._ "Anywhere I will be safe. Father, I do not have much time before the guards..."  
  
    "Your mother."  
  
    _Swallow. Remember, you think she is dead. You are surprised._ "My... even if she were alive, even if I could find her-,"  
  
    "I will tell you where to find her." _He sounds impatient. Does he think you're playing dumb? No, his eyes are on the door, he's worried about the guards._ "She receives no news of the Fire Nation, do not tell her Zuko is on the throne."  
  
    "Do I look stupid?" _Oh, you fool, you can't hold your tongue even for your own freedom?  
_  
    "No, Azula, you do not look stupid." _Well, if you were going to screw up (and we all knew you would), at least he thinks it was funny._ "Tell her I've banished you. You will be safe there for a while, at least."  
  
    _Listen to him. Check his tells... is this true? Would he send you on the same meaningless chases as Zuko? You've failed more spectacularly than Zuko ever could, don't you deserve this? But no, this is the truth. You're his last supporter, he cannot afford to throw you to the wolves.  
  
    Bow before you leave. _"I am your humble servant."  
  
 _Stand. You've got what you came here for, if you want to look at him one last time, you can._ "I will return for you."  
  
    _He looks back at you. He knows._

~~~~

  
    "Did he tell you?" Zuko and the guards were waiting at the end of the hall when she emerged, hood up.  
  
    "Yes," she replied briskly. "Well, what now? Back to my cell?"  
  
    "I was going to suggest you stay in your room with guards posted, but if you'd rather have the cell..." Zuko shrugged.  
  
    "Very funny. Have you always had a sense of humor, or did it come with the title and the crown?"  
  
    "Part of the truce. The Fire Nation is required to develop a sense of humor about itself or the rest of the countries are going to keep wanting to punch us in the face." Zuko stared at her intently while answering. He had always dreaded prolonged conversations with Azula, and somehow he thought that even having her locked up would not change her ability to get under his skin... yet here they were, having an almost human conversation. She hadn't even subtly threatened him.  
  
    She noticed he was staring and turned her hood away from him, as if he might be reading her facial expressions through the cloth.  
  
    "You're ready to hold up your end of the deal, then?" Zuko asked.  
  
    "Yes, if you're ready to hold up yours."  
  
    "I am. There's someone I want you to talk to beforehand."  
  
    "Fine. Lead me on."  
  
    Zuko motioned to one of the guards, and the three of them marched towards the prison entrance. Zuko was fully prepared for jibes about being afraid to be left alone with her, but Azula was strangely quiet. She turned her head towards the sky when they made it outside. Her hood fell back, just enough to reveal her face, and a moment later she pulled it securely over her and walked along between the two of them. Zuko tried not to look over at her on the walk back. She had been pale because she'd spent a month inside, and her eyes were only red from the sudden light change. That was all.

~~~~

  
    "I'd really like to talk to her alone, if you don't mind."  
  
    Azula sat up straighter her chair when she heard the voices just outside the room. She wasn't nervous about her upcoming interview, although Zuko hadn't told her anything about who she was supposed to be talking to, or why. She knew where their mother was, and he was the one who kept all his promises, so one way or another, she was out of prison at the end of this.  
  
    "Remember what I told you about her. She's clever."  
  
    "Relax. I can take care of myself."  
  
    "So can she," Zuko opened the door and nodded to dismiss the guard before stepping into the room, followed by a boy in orange and yellow.  
  
    Azula jumped to her feet as the pieces fell together in her mind. **"No!** Zuko, you can't do this to me! You _can't!_ "  
  
    The Avatar smiled kindly as she backed away from them. "Don't worry, I just want to talk to you," he said softly, raising his hands to show he was harmless. He turned to Zuko, who was not taking his eyes off Azula. "Could you clear out and give us some privacy?"  
  
    "You seriously want me to leave you alone with her?"  
  
    "If you try to take my bending I will fight you and I will kill you!" Azula said, breathing heavily as she moved into a defensive pose, ready to strike.  
  
    "I'm not taking anyone's bending!" Aang exclaimed.  
  
    "Don't say that so soon," Zuko said, "You promised to decide after you'd talked with her, remember?"  
  
    "Zuko, just go," Aang said, "I'll scream if I get into trouble, I promise."  
  
    "But-,"  
  
    Azula lowered her arms cautiously as Aang turned around to face her brother again. Zuko eyed her suspiciously but backed out of the room and closed the door.  
  
    Aang smiled brightly at her. "Well, this is not a great start..." he admitted sheepishly, sitting down opposite the chair Azula was hiding behind. She slowly sat down again, watching him. "Guess there's no point in hiding it... your brother wants me to take away your firebending."  
  
    She twitched a bit, but said nothing.  
  
    "He says you're violent, crazy, and unpredictable, and that they had enough trouble keeping you locked up in a prison designed specifically for firebenders, so sending you somewhere without trained guards around you at all times is... well, really dangerous. And I admit that Zuko knows you a lot better than I do, and what I do know about you pretty much tallies with how he sees you.  
  
    "Here's the thing, though... the ability to take away someone's bending is a huge responsibility, and I don't think it's a good idea for me to get in the habit of abusing that power."  
  
    "And you don't want to start doing Zuzu too many favors... look what happened the last time the Avatar and the Firelord got too chummy," Azula said sarcastically.  
  
    Aang seemed to miss her tone of voice. "That's what I told Zuko!" he said, apparently delighted to have someone agree with him. "I'm not his private avatar!"  
  
    "And you don't want this to end with you being pushed into a volcano," Azula said with a sardonic smile.  
  
    Aang laughed a little bit. "Anyway, I know you're dangerous... I've got the scars to prove it... so I understand why Zuko's worried. I can give you a whole list of my friends who think he's crazy even for wanting to let you out. You don't have a great record for trustworthiness, either."  
  
    "Are you just giving your thought processes, or is there a point to this?"  
  
    "I guess the point is, your brother wasn't exactly a prize when we first ran into him. Actually, the first thing he did when we met him was threaten a village full of old women and children. So he's got no place to say you don't deserve a second chance, and taking your firebending before you've been given one just isn't fair. Not to mention, you weren't exactly raised to know right from wrong, it's not your fault that your father was pure evil and raised you to be the same... I'm still not really sure what went right with Zuko. I'm thinking Iroh, but now I'm just rambling."  
  
    Azula's expression could only be described as pure venom. Aang didn't seem to notice.  
  
    "Zuko and I think this will be a really good experience for you. It'll give you a chance to see the effects that your ancestors' war has had on the world and maybe understand why your father had to be stopped. More importantly, it'll give you the chance to have a normal life."  
  
    "A normal life?" she whispered, disgusted.  
  
    "It's not going to be an easy transition, so I want you to know that I'm rooting for you, and I'll be happy to talk to you or write or do anything I can to help. Just, no firebending, no lightening, no hurting anyone, or I will take your bending, and you'll end up locked up again."  
  
    "You're not worried I'll run away?"  
  
    "What good would it do you?" Aang asked, genuinely surprised she had to ask. "To go into hiding you would have to keep your head down, it'd be the same life you were running from, but without your family to watch out for you."  
  
    "I suppose you're right," Azula said. Her smile looked positively painful, it was so forced. "Thank you, Avatar."  
  
    "Oh, no problem!" Aang said brightly. He stood up and turned walked toward the door, yelling, "Hey, Zuko, you can come in now!"  
  
    The door opened so quickly that Zuko must have had his ear pressed to the key hole, but Azula was already on her feet.  
  
    "Aang, look out-!"  
  
    Aang turned, but a bolt of electricity had already shot out of Azula's fingers. It barely brushed the back of Aang's head, letting off a sharp crack like static.  
  
    "Ouch!" Aang turned around, rubbing his head. "Did you just shock me?"  
  
    Azula stared down at her hands, horror-struck. She jumped backwards, punching the air in front of her as she did. A feeble little flame licked out around her fist and stopped feet short of its target. "What did you do to me?!"  
  
    "Wait, are you trying to attack me?" Aang asked, confused less that she was trying and more that she was failing.  
  
    "You took my bending!" she shrieked, the blood draining from her face.  
  
    "No, I really didn't. Is it not working?"  
  
    Zuko let out a bark of laughter and clapped his hand over his mouth. Azula shot another, even weaker flame at him.  
  
    "WHAT DID HE DO TO ME?!"  
  
    "He didn't do anything to you, Azula," Zuko said, his voice cracking with laughter. "And he won't have to." Aang looked at him curiously. "Have you done any bending since the comet?"  
  
    "Of course not, I've been locked in that cell, I'd have incinerated myself," she growled. "So that's when you did it! You cowardly, underhanded-,"  
  
    "We didn't do anything to you. I swear." Zuko's word, Azula seemed to believe, although it didn't make her look any happier.  
  
    Aang looked back and forth between the two siblings, Azula still murderous, Zuko still trying to suppress his laughter. "I didn't take her bending... she wouldn't be able to do anything at all if I had..."  
  
    "Her life's changed pretty radically in the past month," Zuko said conversationally, "The transition's going to be rough, didn't you say?"  
  
    Aang's eyes widened with understanding. "So she's lost her-,"  
  
    "Maybe Uncle will be a little less upset about the situation now," Zuko said happily. "I don't blame him for being worried, but she shouldn't be a danger like this."  
  
    "What?" Azula snapped, her voice oddly high, "What happened to me? Why can't I firebend?"  
  
    "Personal reasons," Zuko said succinctly. "You'll figure it out with a little mediation and soul-searching."  
  
    They glared at each other for a moment, until Azula took a deep breath and looked away.  
  
    "I suppose you'll be wanting to know where Mother is, then?"  
  
    "Yes."  
  
    "Bring me a map," she said, straightening her chair carefully, her hands still shaking. "And I have one more condition."  
  
    "We already have a deal."  
  
    "Yes, well, if this is my only bargaining chip, it's not going to come cheap. You know me better than that."  
  
    "What is it you want, Azula?"  
  
    She glared at Aang, daring him to make a sound, then met Zuko's eyes. "She probably won't ask about me," she said levelly, "but if she does, do us all a favor and tell her I died."  
  
    "I-,"  
  
    "Go get that map. The sooner I show you, the sooner we can both start traveling."


	2. Introductory Letters

Letter 1: Azula to Zuko, Sixteenth Day of the Tenth Month.  
My dear, merciful, honorable brother,  
  
You will be pleased to know that I have arrived safe and sound in Ba Sing Se. I must congratulate you on your choice of guards. I do not think there was a single moment I was out of their sight. Yes, the citizens of the Earth Kingdom have been preserved from the terror of a powerless ex-princess runaway wandering the woods, picking up the earthbenders and chopping off their heads. Give those men a promotion.  
  
Our uncle is as delighted to see me as ever. It is really touching to know I have such caring relatives looking out for me while I recover from my recent discomposure. I am not convinced, however, that our aging uncle is up to the task of keeping me appropriately restrained. Neither he nor I are quite certain if placing me in his care expresses extreme trust in him, or a lingering resentment of early-morning tsungi horn practice.  
  
He has graciously given me some time to settle in before I take up my duties helping out around the teashop- because I look so tired from traveling, I am sure, and not because he is worried about letting me loose in his beloved shop. Fortunately for everyone involved, I do not intend to stay here long enough to serve tea as an occupation. My bedroom was furnished for your use, so that should give you some idea of the security measures it lacks. (I suppose the property value of a house does not benefit from having a room decked out to contain your crazy niece.) By the time you receive this letter, I will be long gone.  
  
That means this is the last you will ever hear from me, Zuzu. I hope your reign is filled with better decisions than the one you made in sending me here. You're on your own now.  
  
Farewell,  
Azula  
~~~~  
  
Letter 2: Iroh to Zuko, Sixteenth Day of the Tenth Month.  
Zuko,  
  
I am enclosing a letter from your sister. I hope you will be able to read it. She pressed rather harder than necessary on the paper and broke six pens before she finished it. Judging from the amount of ink on her desk, I suspect she broke through the paper regularly. That being said, I hope you are not expecting any fond regards from her.  
  
I am still not convinced that sending her here will help her. I know that you took a lot of good from your own time in Ba Sing Se, but your circumstances were very different, and you and Azula are different people in the best of times (whatever ‘the best of times' may be for Azula...) In any case, she is here now and has been perfectly polite, so we shall see.  
  
Aside from reluctantly agreeing to take in a girl who has tried to kill me about three times in the past year, things are going well. The tea shop is bustling after its grand re-opening. Ms. Bei Fong has been visiting regularly. She is a remarkable young woman, as I am sure you are aware. We are trying to devise a way for her to learn pai sho. I think a set of differently-weighted tiles may work.  
  
Well, I do tend to ramble, and I am sure you are too busy to spend much time worrying about the inventories of tea shops. Remember, you are always welcome to visit. And do not think for one minute that your sister is a suitable substition for your company.  
  
Your affectionate uncle,  
Iroh  
~~~~  
  
Letter 3: Azula to Zuko, Sixteenth Day of the Tenth Month  
My previously-underestimated brother,  
  
It seems you have put a good deal more thought into my enforced stay here than I had previously supposed. Your earthbending friend was so kind as to acquaint me with some of the more subtle precautions you have taken when I tried to make my escape this afternoon.  
  
I am writing to let you know that I have reconsidered my position regarding my residency here. I will be following your orders from now on. In return for the satisfaction of having this statement in my handwriting, I hope that you will consider that nobody was hurt in my escape attempt and that I did not even make it out of our suburb. The whole thing is a nonincident and not worth the hassle of throwing me back in prison. Also I did not even attempt any bending, so can we leave your airbending friend out of the whole thing?  
  
Your still-rather-bruised-from-her-run-in-with-that-little-earthbending-brat servant,

Azula

PS: Toph has asked me to add on her behalf that taking me away so soon would "take all the fun out of staying in Ba Sing Se" and that she is all for keeping me here to see how I do.  
~~~~

"There. Finished," Azula set down her pen and looked at the neatly written postscript on her envelop. "Now, as for delivering it... I hear this country has a decent postal system."

"I'll take it for ya," Toph, lying on the floor like she was not in the least concerned with anything around her, held up a hand. "Your bro gave me a hawk in case I need to reach him. Y'know. If you actually manage to run off."

"What if I want to send a letter to someone else?"

"I can still run them down to the post office for you. What? It's not like I'm going to read your mail."

Azula pulled out another sheet of parchment, considered it, and began writing again.

"So... who ya writing to?" Toph asked after a moment of silence.

"Someone I know."

"Obviously."  
~~~~

Letter 4: Azula to Ty Lee, Sixteenth Day of the Tenth Month.  
Dear Ty Lee,

As I suppose you have heard by now, I have changed residence and occupation a couple of times since last you saw me. The whole crown princess/heir apparent/Firelord career path I have prepared for since birth has fallen through, so I spent a little time between jobs in the dungeons, and now I am about to start working in my uncle's teashop. I am still settling in, but I thought perhaps you would like my current address in case you would like to be in touch. As to why I have your address, my dear, you may thank the current Firelord's staggering inability to keep secrets. I hope Kyoshi is working out for you. I am sure it is, as I cannot imagine you unhappy on an island of acrobatic women.

The past few weeks have been busy, preparing for the big move. As open-minded as I am sure the Earth Kingdom is now that the world is at peace, Zuzu, Uncle, and I have all agreed that it would be best for my wardrobe to include less red and less military wear. You once told me I looked ‘cute' in green, so I hope you were being honest on that particular occasion. There were also some arrangements to work out regarding my new home. Something tells me Uncle did not volunteer to be my host.

I left a few days ago and arrived this morning. Hot air balloons do not afford much room, so the journey was not particularly comfortable. The guards traveling with me were reluctant to talk to me much (out of respect for my former rank, I am sure), but I am perfectly used to having those around me avoid eye contact, so it was bearable, if dull.

Uncle is living his dream, which is to say in a modest house in a division of town about ten minutes' walk from his shop. I have not seen the shop yet, but the neighborhood is nothing special, and neither is the house. It is two stories. Uncle sleeps on the first, I on the second. (The stairs are conviently creaky, should I decide to go for a night-time stroll without permission. He did not say this out loud, but Uncle and I have always had an understanding about this sort of thing.)

My room is cozy. By cozy, I mean it was clearly designed with my brother in mind. (I have the horrible premonition that that is going to be Life With My Uncle summed up in a sentence. This will be a fun experiment for everyone involved, and I am sure your friends on Kyoshi will be on tentherhooks waiting for you to betray my unwisely-given confidence and read them the next installment. You are quite welcome, by the way.) The decor is very Earth Kingdom. The doorway is hung with a heavy green and gold tapestry. The wooden floor is mostly covered with a dark green rug. To the left is a green-framed window that looks out over the courtyard, which is really only some grass and a fair-sized tree with yellow and orange foliage this time of year. Under the window is a simple wooden trunk that could be turned into window seat with judicious application of cushions. Next to the trunk is a bed with pale green quilt on it. (I have to admit surprise; I thought Earth citizens usually slept on mats. Perhaps this is one custom even my uncle cannot habituate himself to. My neck gets sore sleeping on the cursed things and he is not getting any younger.) The opposite wall has a stretch of brick where the chimney stretches through the house, to heat the upstairs in winter, and next to this is a wardrobe (lest my aprons get wrinkled). Next to the bed, against the far wall and under a high, octagonal window (it faces the neighbor's wall, so there is no need to able to see out it), is a desk, where I am currently writing this. As I said, comfortable enough, but very green.

On the rug is my luggage and a tiny, ill-spoken blind girl. Once I had been safely delivered, Uncle invited the guards over to the shop for a cup of tea (possibly the first time I have seen him show off since my childhood). Naturally I took advantage of this lapse in security to make a bid for sweet, tea-free freedom. Turns out Zuzu planned more thoroughly for this than I expected, as the Avatar's earthbending master, Toph Bei-Fong, was waiting for me. (Have you two been introduced? We may have come across her a few times last spring. Or possibly you ran into her at one of those "yay, my home country has been utterly defeated" parties that I was not invited to.) She had me pinned to the neighbor's wall with cobblestones not five seconds after my feet hit the ground, and now we are back in my room.

Her family has a unused property here in the city, and she has agreed to set up house there and help Uncle keep me under control in exchange for the excuse not to go back to her parents. I think we will be spending a lot of time together. She is, after all, my only alternative to Uncle, unless I want to get chummy with our customers. Her manners leave something to be desired, but nobody has ever accused earthbenders of refinement.

Case in point, she has just started mocking the length of this letter.

"What is this, your life story? And for my third birthday, I got a zebrabunny and I named it Snookums... Who the hell do you expect to read this letter?"

An excellent question, and one that I cannot answer, as apparently I know nothing about you. ~~The Ty Lee that I think of would not~~

The little brat says Uncle has just returned, so she is leaving, and would I like it if she sent a maid to unpack?

"I can unpack on my own, thank you very much for the offer."

"Heh, I would've though princesses were too delicate to fold their own dresses. Wouldn't you rather just sit there and write while everyone does everything for you? That's what my parents are always telling me a proper lady does. So don't be afraid to ask for help on simple tasks, we don't have very high expectations for you."

She has left. Challenge accepted, Bei Fong.

Later:  
Well, I have finished unpacking. Warden Toph has been proven completely wrong, my clothes are folded with the type of precision more suited for producing steam-powered trebuche parts. I have no idea how I am going to pass the time when I run out of settling-in activites, so I wanted to draw out the act of taking my underwear out of one box and putting it in another box for as long as possible. You could use the edges of my clothes to draw engineering diagrams. Wish Toph could see them. There would be no more insinuations that I am too coddled to dress myself, let alone keep my own room in order.

Now that I am no longer busy folding shirts or talking to my earthbending jailer, I am starting to appreciate how very, very, oppressively silent my room is. The window overlooks the courtyard, I believe I mentioned earlier, and the courtyard is walled in, so I can neither see nor hear the neighbors. Instead, I have a peaceful, secluded, soothing view of our little tree. It is so still I want to scream. I had hoped living in a city would at least approximate the bustle of life at ~~home~~ the palace, but the architect of our humble abode shared Uncle Iroh's idea of what a good house should be: dead quiet. So no busy street noises to distract me.

Uncle and I are the only two inhabitants of this entire dwelling. The house is small, to be sure (Uncle being, as always, a big fan of modest living), but am I really supposed to live in a household that consists only of myself and one other person? The closest you have ever come, Ty Lee, is having your own dressing tent at the circus, so stop for a moment and consider how strange this is. There are no servants, there are no guards, there are no priests, there are no teachers or fellow students, there are no armies of older sisters intruding on my life. Just me and an old man who wishes his beloved nephew had had the balls to kill me when he had the chance.

The scratching of my pen is doing nothing to fill the silence in this room. I think I will have to leave you for the time being and go seek the company of the above-mentioned old man.

_Spirits and ashes, how do they expect me to sleep in this tomb?_

_Once night falls, it will be like being locked in a closet._

  


Later: After my last update, I wandered into the kitchen.  
(Eventually I will make a thorough going-over of my new abode, and possibly write you the floor plan. You are perhaps surprised that I have not done so already. The last time you saw me, that would have been the first thing I did. When and why I have changed so drastically, and if it is permanent, remains to be seen. If I do not know the Ty Lee reading this, I can at least say confidently that you do not know the Azula writing it.)

As I was saying, I wandered into the kitchen and sat down at our table, facing Uncle, who was fiddling with a pot on the stove. He ignored me, which suited me well enough. Once I was back in his company, I could not remember why I had wanted to be there, so I sat silently for a while, trying to focus on Uncle's cooking and not morbid reflections on my future.

Eventually he finished adding things to our future supper (some Earth vegetable stew with not enough seasoning) and decided he could ignore my existence no longer.

"Azula, have you unpacked?"

"Yes, Uncle."

"Do you want to rest?" He sounded like he was not sure why I was in the kitchen staring at him and he was determined to find a better occupation for me. "You must be tired. I can call you for supper."

"I am not tired, Uncle." Not tired enough to sleep, at any rate, not in that room.

"Well, in that case, I can start teaching you the fine art of tea-making. You will have to learn before you start at the shop." I think he meant this to deter me. Why does everyone here seem to think I am incapable of working? I like doing things for myself from time to time.

"That sounds perfect. Do you mind teaching me right now?"

He, of course, thought that I was being sarcastic and gave me one of those suspicious looks, which he has been throwing my way since I was about eight. Not that I am a trustworthy niece, but I was telling the truth. I needed something to do with myself that would take up all of my attention, and the sooner I learn how to make tea to Uncle's exacting specifications, the sooner I can start waitressing, which should keep me busy enough to keep me from thinking. I have had too much time to think lately.

Uncle either decided I was sincere, or else that sarcasm or no, I had to learn to be a good tea server, because he took the teapot off the shelf and we started my first lesson in tea production.

There are not many skills that Zuko beats me at, so, generous sister that I am, I suppose I can concede tea-making to him. It will go on the list right under interpersonal skills and relationships.

Tea is apparently a much more delicate substance than I have given it credit for. I have been lectured at great length about the subtleties of flavor that distinguish each type of tea, how to best draw out these nuances, and the horrible effects of over- or under-seeping, mismeasuring the leaves per cup, or scalding the leaves. This last one is going to be a source of great annoyance. It is perfectly easy for Iroh to heat the water to not-quite-boiling, but I no longer have enough control over my bending to do so. Neither of us have been in the situation to appreciate how hard it is to control temperature without bending.

Lessons learned today;  
1\. All tea, good, bad, burnt, weak, strong, black, green, white, tastes pretty much the same to me.  
2\. Our finishing school was a huge waste of money and time, in Uncle's opinion, as they at least could have been expected to give me some sense of refinement and tea appreciation.  
3\. I should not ever tell Uncle Iroh that I have never been very fond of tea. (Actually, I already knew not to do this, but repetition makes perfect.)  
4\. Kettles are harder to pour gracefully than they look.

Homework: Is this new life better or worse than being a political prisoner? Does this meet the definition of "freedom"? Discuss, drawing on unfounded worries and uncertainties from the past two months. Length of essay: Until you fall asleep or until dawn breaks.

Until my next update,  
~Azula


	3. Working Girl

~~~~  
  
Letter 5: Azula to Ty Lee, Twenty-Second Day of the Tenth Month, (posted on the twenty-third day)  
Dear Ty Lee,  
  
It has been almost a week since my last letter. I had expected to write you sooner, either in a desperate attempt to stave off boredom, or else because my new life was too exciting to not share with someone. ~~even if the only person I have to write to is... why don't I be kind and say "uninterested"?~~  
  
Neither prediction has proven true. I have managed to find ways to occupy myself thoroughly, and yet nothing interesting enough to send me running for my inkwell has happened. Unless you are dying to hear about the great art of tea preparation, and so much reverence is given to the subject that I think it would be High Treason to give away our secret techniques in a letter that could easily be intercepted by enemy combatants.  
  
My home life is strained. Uncle and I have never gotten along, but for the most part we tolerated each other. In the halcyon days of my youth, he disapproved of me but was too well-mannered to interfere with how his brother chose to raise me, while I was willing to overlook his disapproval so long as he left me alone. Things took a decided turn for the worse in our relationship after I chased him around the Earth Kingdom, stole his nephew, and arrested him, yes, but I would like to stress that this tension is nothing new between us. I am keeping my general dislike of him on the down-low because if he turns me out, I have nowhere to go but prison, and in any case Zuzu was so excited that he had found a solution to the riddle of his still-breathing sister, I would love to have our darling uncle be the one to disillusion him, for once.  
  
In a startling return to younger days, I spent the last week in school. Tea-and-waitress lessons for the most part, but with some side courses on chores. I am now as equally capable as my uncle at setting the table, washing dishes, and basic food prep. Vegetable chopping was an especially big feat, considering he won't let me use the sharp knives. Seems he would be more scared that I will learn how to use the dull ones effectively. I make a brilliant porridge, though. Adding this to the list of accomplishments at which I beat Zuzu. (I feel like this list has shrunk, so I am happy to make up lost ground.)  
  
And yes, before you ask, I did know how to make a bed properly beforehand. My dear uncle has been demonstrating the first signs of dementia, and has forgotten that he is not the only person in our family to go on a military campaign without an convoy of servants in tow. We humor him, poor old man.  
  
Not a lot of conversation here _chez Iroh_. I have kept quiet because I have not really been in the mood to have every word out of my mouth scrutinized and openly mistrusted. Uncle does not talk much most likely because he prefers company possessed of a functional human soul (something I am considered missing, by general family consensus). Occasionally one of us will make a lame joke and we will both chuckle nervously. Mostly, though, it is orders and questions, with some poetical tea descriptions thrown in to liven things up.  
  
"Now, for the oolong, you'll want a light simmer before you turn off the heat, then wait for about two minutes."  
  
"How long do I steep it?"  
  
"Before you even begin to brew this blend, take a pinch and inhale its scent. Appreciate the life these leaves led. Feel the sun shining on them, the mountain air rushing past them, the delicate twinge of approaching rain." (I swear he said this. And I also swear he was serious.)  
  
As well one might suppose, I was longing for someone to talk to within hours of my first day. Understand how lonely it is here that I thought I had seriously made a mistake trading solitary confinement for this. At least in solitary I could talk to myself (and frequently did. Zuzu already told the guards I was raving, so I was not exactly losing face, and sitting quietly in a room all day does not agree with me.) Try to turn to some imaginary friends for solace here and the palace will be inundated with letters reproaching the government for sending a crazy to be second-in-command at Ba Sing Se's Fire Embassy. (Do we actually have an embassy in Ba Sing Se? We should. I will write Zuzu about it.)  
  
I kept myself going through the awkward silences and the condescending directions by telling myself that soon I would be among new people. Even the degradation of being a waitress would be worth talking to someone who had not already formed an opinion of me based on my brother's horror stories. A few passing comments from Uncle have convinced me that we are keeping our family origins quiet. Wise, given our unfavorable reputation. And it means I- how did the Avatar say it? "Have a chance at a normal life." The definition of "normal" aside, some hope is better than nothing.  
  
I assumed that, after a brief orientation period, Uncle would be putting me to work as soon as he could to keep me out of his hair. The opposite, as it turns out. Uncle wants me nowhere near the culmination of his life's dream, and he is willing to keep me endlessly busy for however long it takes for me to break my terms of parole and be shipped back to the Fire Nation. He insisted that I be up to his very exacting qualifications before I start as a waitress. It was not long before I realized that nothing short of complete tea perfection could force him to let me on the sacred ground that is The Jasmine Dragon.  
  
Unfortunately for my uncle, perfection happens to be my area of expertise. I have a study sheet of instructions to prepare the perfect cup or pot of every single tea in the house posted to my wall above my desk. I boiled pot after pot of water and carefully timed how long it takes to reach each desirable temperature. (I may no longer be able to create my own fire, but I have a solid background in how fire and heat work, at least). With a few late-night study sessions and a little hard work, I passed my uncle's exam with irrefutable flying colors.  
  
I start work tomorrow, and I am already behind on sleep from my study sessions. I should get a good night's rest. Tomorrow is a big day for me, after all. (I have no trouble sleeping, after all, so long as I manage to exhaust myself during the day.)  
  
Good night (or whatever time of day you happen to read this, my dear),  
Azula  
~~~~  
  
Letter 6: Azula to Zuko, Twenty-Third Day of the Tenth Month  
My noble and most esteemed brother,  
  
I am writing this fresh from my first day at the teashop. Our uncle has been quick to remind me that you once did this same job. (Usually with the implication that I am not a satisfactory replacement for you, but that is neither here nor there.) I am reminded, however, that our roles have been reversed. I have your old job, and you have mine.  
  
This being the case, I have some suggestions to make sure your transition to Firelord goes smoothly. I will not talk long; I know you must be busy.  
  
\- I have it from reliable sources that you have relinquished all of the Earth Kingdom territories we have acquired over the past hundred years. I suppose you have your reasons, so that's that. However, allow me to remind you that the majority of our coal and iron ore comes from some of those territories. If you rule out forcibly taking what you need (which I assume you have), you are going to have to open some trade agreements. May I suggest glass? I have yet to see any glassware here that matches the quality we have ~~at home~~ in the Fire Nation.  
  
\- If you are serious about this "peace" thing, you should start sending ambassadors to the Earth rulers. Being at peace with another nation is a form of being their ally, and being a nation's ally is merely a weaker form of being its conqueror. More complicated, to be sure, because you must actually take into account the other country's feelings. Still, basic principles apply. Send representatives to make sure your interests are actually represented there. Be very careful in your selection of ambassadors. Pick only those you know will obey your orders, and then check on them to make sure they do so.  
  
Stay out of trouble, Zuzu. You may not be the best man for the job, but here we are. Be careful, think before you speak, and watch your back, and maybe we will all get through this alive.  
  
Your concerned servant,  
Azula  
~~~~  
  
Letter 7: Azula to Ty Lee, Twenty-Third Day of the Tenth Month (posted on the twenty-fifth day)  
Dear Ty Lee,  
  
First day on the job. Waitressing is as bad as it sounds. If you are ever hard-up for work, I do not recommend it. If you are forced to such an extremity, I strongly suggest you wear your most comfortable shoes. Fortunately, I believe that the only kinds of shoes worth wearing are the kind you can run ten miles with in a morning without feeling your feet, so I have been spared. Standing all day is hardly a complaint at all. I have certainly done more physically demanding work.  
  
No, the real problem is the customers. All my life I have been taught that the people of the Earth Kingdom are backwards, idiotic, uncultured, and vulgar. My education has yet to fail me. I would not hire one of our most sophisticated clientele as a stable-hand. The other waitresses are flighty and insipid, the customers are rude and demanding and do nothing to make my life easier. ~~What I would give for five minutes with you and M~~ Of course, I am far too determined to be well-mannered to express any of my opinions to the customers or Uncle. Someone must set an example of what real courtesy is. Also I am not sure how Uncle would react if I swung a teapot full of boiling water at the next person to say "sweets, can I get a refill?" when I CLEARLY have my hands full. Obnoxious and unobservant as the customers are, I would rather be with them than shut up in the house for another day.  
  
Also, apparently I have a twin named "Lee" in this city. Something to consider. Now, however, I have complained my fill and I intend to pass out in my little closet room.  
  
Twenty-fourth Day of the Tenth Month:  
I have re-read what I wrote last night, and realize that I have left you mostly in the dark. I apologize for my rudeness. Forgive me, Ty Lee, the tea shop has apparently been sapping my reserves of civility. I will be more thorough in my letters from now on.  
  
Yesterday morning I woke by dint of my own nervous energy, followed by Uncle yelling at me that it was time to get up. (I think this is force of habit from my brother's time here, the lay-about.) I then spent entirely too much time on my hair with entirely too little success. Your friends at Kyoshi can laugh all they want, I have a LOT of hair and it is hard to pile it all into a topknot that will stay in place all day. The best I can do is a very sloppy, unprofessional-looking braid, and there is nothing like a bad hair style to sap your confidence on any new endeavor (I think you taught me that), so I left it down. Yes, that is how I spent my morning. Putting my hair up, re-doing it, poking it with a comb until it looked nice, realizing it would never look nice, and just giving up and going downstairs to breakfast looking like I had lain in bed for an extra hour doing absolutely nothing, which is why I bring it up.  
  
The hair problem had two immediate consequences: it placed a black mark on my Azula Redeems Herself Via Community Service record and it forced me to eat breakfast quickly. I was not in a brilliant mood for conversation, but in my experience mood has very little to do with conversation so long as you concentrate.  
  
We arrived a little before opening to meet up with the other staff, a trio of giggling girls maybe a few years older than I am. They were kind, in a vapid, immature sort of way. They asked a few rather impertinent questions about me (how old are you?, What did you do back at home?), which I replied to politely enough (younger than you, not serve tea, etc). They seemed a little put-off by me, nonetheless. I suppose I do not pull off the waitress look very accurately. (So much green! There is no way this is just Earth Kingdom chic. I think Uncle has been hiding his favorite color for years. Also, the other waitresses and I wear these ridiculous robes with very narrow skirts and it is impossible to move in them. What is wrong with this country?)  
  
Color scheme aside, the shop is nice (not that I am any expert in the field of tea vending). It is a stone building (most of Ba Sing Se is, for obvious reasons) with huge front doors that are thrown open unless the weather is exceptionally disagreeable. The shop is one long room, with tables dotted throughout most and an area in the back sectioned off with a counter where we keep the menus and the orders. There are sixteen tables total, which seat two or four people. (The shop sits 44 people. I will not tell you the ratio of tables, in case you have a rainy day and want to practice your algebra.) There are shuttered windows, but glass windows appear to be something of a luxury here, and the air is just getting chilly, so they have been closed thus far. Still, the overall effect is light and spacious. Uncle could probably give me some flowery reason that "one must have tranquility in the environment to have tranquility in one's tea" or some such to explain his decor choices, but frankly I do not care enough to ask. The prep area behind the counter is hidden from the customers by tasteful screens, and consists of a stone counter full of burners and a sink for washing the dishes, as well as built-in shelves full of teapots, cups, and jars and jars of tea. There is a door next to the sink, where the staff enters in the morning and leaves at night. (The front doors are impossible to lock from the outside, I understand.) There is also a staircase next to the counter, that leads up to the private room on the second floor, which I have yet to see. (I get the impression that it mostly exists as a place for Uncle to take his guests.)  
  
That is my new place of employment. I have four basic duties: seat customers/take orders, make tea, clear tables, wash dishes. I spent the first day learning the ropes, as demonstrated by one of the girls (her name might be Shi?). As I said last night, it is awful work. The customers are either excessively rude when I do not have the entire menu memorized and offer them a tea that is not available, or they smile patronizingly when I mess up their order and say something like "Well, it's only your first day, dear," like they are doing me some sort of favor by not demanding to see the manager. I definitely catch some of the men checking out the other girls behind their backs (one indignity I am probably spared, at least), and every customer treats me as though the purchase of a pot of hot water and leaves has given them, and only them, some ultimate right to my undivided attention. Uncle finally noticed towards the end of the day yesterday that my hands were starting to shake with fury whenever someone called me over and sent me to the back to wash dishes for the general safety of everyone in the shop.  
  
Well before this intervention, however, I was introduced as "my little niece, Azula" to the rest of the staff, which was comforting in its own way. So Uncle is willing to give me my name and own up to being related to me. He even introduced me to a few of the regular customers when they asked. He called me over each time this happened, and it always went about the same:  
  
"Madame Nuan, this is my niece, Azula. She will be staying with me for a while." (A while, ha. Looks as though I am not the only one banking on an exit someday.)  
  
This is the part where I bow slightly. "It is a pleasure to meet you."  
  
I have not lost the knack, it seems, of convincing strangers that I am sweet, so long as I say or do nothing whatsoever that might suggest I have a personality, because the customer always beams at me here, then talks to Iroh, as though I am not quite bright enough to understand human speech and they need not bother saying much directly to me. "I thought she must be related to you. She's the very spitting image of Lee."  
  
I heard this or some variation of this at least dozen times in the past two days. Uncle always looks deeply uncomfortable when they say this. I am positive they are saying "Lee", though. A few of them have even asked Uncle how "Lee" is doing, and he always responds with a vague "Oh, fine. Azula, don't you have tables to see to?" He did spend a few years in this area when we were children, I am entertaining the idea that Lee is his illegitimate Earth-daughter. If this turns out to be the case, I will let you know.  
  
Today I was in the back with the dishes. Earthenware cups are really very annoying to clean over and over again all day, but it did give me the chance to watch the other girls work the burners. I know how to stack the fuel for a steady flame, but the firestarters they use here are a bit of a mystery. (I know, I know, you have been using them on campfires for ages, yourself, so you have no sympathy for my plight. Not that I need any further proof of that. Let me complain. I have had a long day.) I think I have worked out how to use them, so once my bending disappears (and this seems inevitable, I can barely produce enough to start the kettle in the morning anymore), I will not have to ask for help. How fortunate for me, but then, I have always been extraordinarily lucky.  
  
I have not seen Toph since yesterday, when she stopped by after the shop closed for another lesson in the infinite wonders of pai sho while I started dinner and scribbled out a quick note for my brother (keeping in touch with family is important, after all), so she could send that along with my last letter to you. She has not been spotted since dinner. As soon as she resurfaces, I will send this letter with her. I will have to convince Uncle to let me walk to the post-office on my own. I would rather my communication not depend on the caprice of a girl who calls me Princess Assam. (Uncle tells me to grab the "Azula" out of the pantry and yet I am the one stuck with the nickname. Did I mention that Toph was there for much of my training week?)  
  
Twenty-fifth Day of the Tenth Month  
No Toph today, but I did manage to catch my hair on fire when I turned my back to a burner to grab a jar of leaves. Shu, the waitress who was on dish duty today, tossed a pot of cold lapsang souchong on me and put me out before I even smelled the smoke. My hair has not come to any permanent damage, but only through the intervention of the entire waitress team, because I fully intended to go straight back to the house and chop the rest of it off. They talked me out of it, less with their arguments that it was just "so pretty" and more because the last time I tried my hand at self-styling ~~my entire life was subsequently destroyed~~ the damage was almost irreparable. Shi told me that if I spare my hair and find a pair of hair sticks she can show me how to put it into a bun on my own. So there is that workplace hazard solved.  
  
Under the circumstances, Uncle felt it was all right that I take the afternoon off. So here I am, washed and in drier clothes, and with the whole house to myself. I was pondering what to do when I remembered that I promised to describe my new home for you. Once I am done, I am certain I can draw my resident post-woman out by pretending to escape. It may cost me a few bruises, but that is a relatively small price for a little companionship.  
  
So here, the grand tour, in more detail than you probably need unless you intend to come break me out of here:  
The ground floor is made of the same mud/clay/stone/Earthbender-building-mate

rial as the teashop, and the top floor, I think I already mentioned, is wood. The decorations are generally more modest than in the shop. I know Zuzu provided some of the money for Uncle to re-establish here. Zuzu insists it was a gift, Uncle that it was a loan. (And Toph and I that it was a bribe for taking me in.) In either case, I know Uncle is trying to live within his means as much as possible, more as a whim than from any necessity. Zuzu would bankrupt the whole country if Uncle asked it of him. (No, I am not worried about the Firelord's ability to manage a country's budget, why would you even suggest that?) So while we do not have any excessive luxuries, Uncle is not one to give up a comfort for the sake of pride, so I cannot complain that we lack anything.

The front room is the closest to Jasmine Dragon-style decor. Our front doors are two heavy wooden affairs that appear to be made one part for ornament and one part to keep out besieging armies, which makes it a little disconcerting that they are flanked on either side by nice, large, vulnerable windows (glass, thank the sun, or I would barely see the sky at all over winter, I am sure). There is a pale green rug in front of the door, where we generally take our shoes off, but the floor is otherwise bare. In the center of the room is a low wooden table, surrounded by several very comfortable green cushions and a light-brown couch. Against the wall to the right is a chest very much like the one in my room, except that this one is used for storing pai sho paraphernalia and what appears to be a set of painting supplies. The left wall has a bookshelf containing, predictably, writings (a few books, mostly scrolls) on tea, pai-sho, and poetry. Mostly poetry. The shelf also holds a staggering quantity of odd knick-knacks. (The monkey sculpture with ruby eyes is especially jarring). It is like someone itemized my uncle's brain and stored it in our sitting room.

Near the corner behind the bookshelf is a wide doorway leads with a slight turn to the right into the kitchen, and with a turn to the left into an awkward little square hallway. As, by nature of being a hallway, this room leads to several others that all warrant descriptions of some sort, I am turning us first to the relatively-simple kitchen.

The oven is the center of the kitchen, as one might suppose. It is against the wall the kitchen shares with the front room (and, incidentally, which contains the chimney that intrudes into my room above). The oven juts out from the wall around waist-height and merges with the counter that runs along the wall. I admit that I do not spend enough time in kitchens to know how common this set-up is, but it seems rather clever to me. Our sink is a few paces down from the stove, also very handy. (The bathroom is the only one with running water, so one of my chores is to fill the kitchen basin every morning. Do not worry, I am perfectly capable of carrying a bucket of water down the hallway reliably.) Across from the counter is a large picture-window that looks out over the garden, and in front of this is the kitchen table, surrounded by six wooden chairs with green cushions. There is a high shelf that runs above the counter and contains Uncle's teapot collection and the nicer, more display-able plates. Our everyday dishes and pots we keep under the counter or else in the cabinet on the far wall. This is the wall that faces the neighbor's house, so it has two of those high windows to let in light but not spies. It also extends past the wall that looks onto the garden, making the room slightly L-shaped. The short end of the L forms the pantry and has a little door that leads into the yard.

Staying in the house for now, let's backtrack to the hallway, which is really more of a room with too many exits and no real purpose. I have already mentioned the open doorways into the kitchen and front room, which form an odd corner. The wall against the backyard is entirely covered by a wooden staircase to the rest of the house. There is a little end-table with a vase of flowers next to the stairs to spruce the room up, but without windows it is a fairly dark space. The wall opposite the stairs has a sliding door that leads to Uncle's bedroom. Uncle, like me, must prefer to people-watch, because he has a large window that looks onto the street. His room (I poked my head in for the first time just now, as I don't have much occasion to be there) is what one would expect: large, comfortable, and with several musical instruments on the wall. I must be careful never to mention tsungi horns around him, since he has one and I am sure would take me up on anything even resembling a suggestion he play it.

The door at the end of the hallway leads to the bathroom. It is dominated mostly by a large bathtub, but there is also a small sink with a mirror and a closet in what would be the awkward space under the stairs. This is, naturally, used for towels and more bath products than any sixty-year-old man has the right to own. The room has Ba Sing Se's version of running water, which is to say, cold, unreliable water. I think the wealthiest sections of the city have their own heating systems and the rest go to bathhouses for their spa needs. Uncle, of course, heats his own baths, and has thus-far heated mine without comment. I did not realize this was the case until I took a bath unsupervised after the flaming hair incident this afternoon, and had to endure near-freezing water. I am uncertain as to whether to thank him for this. I suppose it would be only polite, but I cannot bring myself to acknowledge that I am incapable of doing it myself. We have not brought up the subject of my bending so far, and I think this taboo is best left unbroken. Suffice to say, the bathroom, while reasonably nice, makes me uncomfortable for a number of reasons.

Upstairs is less interesting. The stairs lead to a small room with a thin brown rug and a cabinet that is currently full of flowerpots. This is next to the door to a balcony above Uncle's room that looks out over the street. He arrived too late in the year to start any interesting gardening projects. The contents of the cabinet suggest that he is already making plans for spring, however. I hope winter is not long in this city.

Along the wall of the little upstairs room are two doors, one into my room and the other into the guest bedroom that has been implicitly set aside for Zuko now that I have usurped his rightful bedroom. Honestly, I would much rather have Zuzu's new bedroom. It is furnished much like mine, but it has a larger bed (bought in anticipation of married guests, I suppose), more gold than green in the decor, and a large window with a street-view.

Having thus finished my (admittedly long) survey of the interior of the house, I suppose I should devote some attention to the backyard. I have already told you it is surrounded by a tall brick wall, and that the easiest way to access it is through the pantry. There is a little overgrown stone walkway that follows the wall of the house, and a tree in the far corner that blocks about a quarter of the yard from view. I do not recognize the type of tree, we do not have them in the Fire Nation. It looks mostly ornamental. Its branches are too twisted to produce good wood, but it would be easily climbable. If I can get up high enough, it looks over the edge of the wall, and I could spy on the neighbors, assuming they are interesting enough to be worth spying on.

Thanks to this tree, the yard is covered with small sticks and a few yellow or orange leaves. I know that trees in colder climates lose their leaves this time of year, but this is the first time I have ever been in a colder climate this time of year. A welcome relief from the green inside the house, certainly, and probably the closest to my favorite colors I will come here.

So, there, as promised, a complete and overly-intricate assessment of my house, as only I would be interested in reading. I am only a little sorry for wasting your time, I am afraid, because if you know nothing else about me, you should at least by now know that I like to be aware of my surroundings, and I would hate for the Azula's Amazingly Common Adventure Read Aloud fans to get a false sense of my character merely to make my thought process seem more interesting.

My hair is now dry, I have warmed up from my encounter with un-bent water, and I think the time has come for me to bring this letter to a close and go find Toph.  
Azula  
~~~~

Letter 8: Ty Lee to Mai, Twenty-seventh Day of the Tenth Month  
Dearest Mai,

Hello! How are you? How's your family?

Guess who I've heard from? Azula.

She apparently got my address from her brother and has written me three times in the last two weeks. She sounds pretty miserable. Well, actually she doesn't sound like anything, she just writes letters, but her letters make her sound pretty miserable. She isn't adjusting very well to Ba Sing Se. (She's in Ba Sing Se, did Zuko tell you? I guess he probably did.) Anyway, she keeps writing to me. I thought maybe you would like to know.

The thing is, my friends here noticed I was getting a lot of mail suddenly that I wasn't super-thrilled about, so they started asking me who the mysterious sender was, as you do, I guess, if your friend starts getting weird letters. Anyway, I told them, and they were all very concerned.

They all gave me a lot of different advice. Miyako said I should send the letters back with "return to sender: no one at this address" stamped on them. Sakai offered to go out there and "beat her creepy ass" if she kept bothering me, which I think is a bit much. It's really nice of them to worry, but honestly, I don't understand what the big deal is. I mean, Azula and I have known each other forever, I can't think of any reason she wouldn't write to me.

I don't know, I feel like I should send her a note back or something, because she sounds really lonely and maybe she would like to hear what I'm up to these days, but everyone I talk to thinks that's a horrible idea. Maybe it is.

So, that's really all that's going on here. Hope you're doing well.

Hugs and kisses,  
Ty Lee  
~~~~

Letter 9: Mai to Ty Lee, Twenty-Eight Day of the Tenth Month  
Dear Ty Lee,

**ARE YOU CRAZY?**

Do NOT write back to Azula! What are you THINKING?

Listen to me, Ty Lee. Even assuming that she actually is as lonely and miserable as her letters make her out to be, and that this is not the first step in some elaborate power-play built on your pity, let her be lonely and miserable. She deserves it. She picked on and threatened and bullied us (and, less importantly, but still noteworthy, the rest of the country) for years, and now that she no longer has any power to force us to stay with her, she is lonely. This is neither surprising nor sad, and it is not your responsibility to do anything about it. She gave up any right to our sympathy a long time ago.

Next time you feel like writing to her, think about your new friends' advice. Not what they actually said, but just the fact that they noticed you were worried about something and wanted to help. Would Azula do anything like this? Would she write back to you if the tables were turned? You are happy where you are (as far as I can see), don't let her ruin this for you.

I am sorry she got ahold of your address, though. Not that it's any help now, but I've explained to Zuko (using one syllable words) that just because he does know where someone is living does not mean he is under an obligation to tell all interested parties this information. Try to forgive him, he has a lot on his mind lately.

(Things are average here, by the way. Tried to pitch the "move into the palace with my boyfriend" thing, and Mother flipped out and told me "people would talk." Currently living at home. The brother is driving me crazy. Of course, the boyfriend would probably also drive me crazy, but that is kinda why I keep him.)

Best,  
Mai


	4. Nosy

Letter 10, Azula to Ty Lee, Twenty-seventh Day of the Tenth Month  
Dear Ty Lee,

Letter from my brother arrived this morning. Not addressed to me, obviously, but Uncle was kind enough to share some of it with me over breakfast.

He started out gently, as I was finishing my porridge. "Azula, I have some bad news."

My first thought, when I saw Zuzu's seal on the letter Uncle was holding, was naturally that he did not share Toph's light-hearted approach to my escape attempts, and I was shipping back to my cell.

Fortunately, before I could make any serious plans to kill anyone who tried to take me back, Uncle broke his news to me. "There was an early snowfall in the mountains this year. The pass that leads to your mother's village is blocked, probably until spring. I know it must be frustrating to be so close to seeing her again and have to wait longer-"

Judging from the soothing, sympathetic way he delivered this news, I do not think Uncle was expecting me to burst into riotous laughter. I probably would have controlled myself a little better if he had not thrown me off guard with the "bad news" scare tactic. Clearly I have not been around enough "good people" lately and have forgotten how they think.

Uncle did not know how to respond to this, so when I could breath, I was left to start the conversation up again. "Father told me to get there before autumn got going, and I passed that right along to Zuzu. This isn't my fault."

"Nobody is blaming you. You told us everything you could. We knew as well as you did that she was sent somewhere remote and difficult to reach."

I started laughing again here.  
(A brief explanation for your benefit: when I wormed my mother's location out of my father, I thought it was odd that he was not angry with me for a some very serious mistakes I had made, not worth going into at the moment. This is when I realized that he sent me to live with my mother in the middle of the mountains for an entire winter, which is, admittedly, a fittingly horrific punishment for my various transgressions. I escaped prison, my father's displeasure, and my mother. I am a genius. I felt better than I have in months.)

When I was done once again scaring my uncle by being happy, I offered to clean up the breakfast dishes before work.

"Azula, if you want to take the day off, I would understand..." You have to admire my uncle, persevering in treating me as though my reactions are just some odd expression of normal emotions, despite all proof to the contrary. You would think that between Zuzu and my mother, ONE of them would have tipped him off that I am not really human.

"But I took yesterday off, Uncle," I said in my most innocent voice, picking up his bowl on my way to the sink. "I don't want to get any preferential treatment just because I'm related to you. Anyway, what good would it do me to sit here all day?"

Work went much better today. I even managed to smile at the customers who snap their fingers to get my attention when I am seeing to other tables. The trick, as it turns out, is the same as the trick to being polite to anyone else, and to imagine their heads bursting into flame when I look at them. This usually causes them to turn away and wait patiently for me to finish with my other customers.

One of the regulars (a thoughtless middle-aged woman who seems fairly well-to-do) sat down at my table when we were not particularly busy and asked after my brother. It was one of the best conversations I have had in a while, so I must share it with you.

"He is doing well, thank you. We got a letter from him today." Truth.

"He never mentioned having a sister."

"I suspect he didn't like talking about home, much." Truth.

"Well, I'm sure he missed you, all the same."

"Oh, I'm certain he worried about me night and day." And indeed, he probably did worry about me finding him. Truth.

"Of course he did! And I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you and your parents, not knowing where he was."

"I actually lost both my parents during the war." Truth again.

This sent her hurrying to apologize, as well she should. Why would I be cleaning tables here if I had two functional parents and a loving family waiting at home? Nobody thinks before they speak here. "Oh! How terrible, I'm so sorry."

"I would really rather not talk about it." More truth.

I was trying quite hard to look as sad and serious as possible, or I am sure I would have started laughing again when she dithered about trying to be sympathetic. "Yes, of course, dear. No one would dream of forcing you to relive- I hope you can put all that behind you, here."

(Interesting note: this is the most sympathy I have ever gotten for being an orphan of any description. Nobody seemed to notice that we did not have a visible mother. I cannot remember any mention of Father having a wife at the coronation or any other ceremony, or anybody asking why this would be so. Where everyone thought Zuko and I came from, I have no clue. I rather like the idea that our citizens assumed Firelord Ozai just summoned a couple of children into existence one day for kicks.)

After this, we briefly turned the conversation to Uncle's general well-being, and then some more customers came in and I escaped, leaving her convinced that I am a courageous soul recovering from some sort of war-related tragedy, which is of course completely untrue. At the moment I feel positively jubilant.

Your favorite compulsive liar,  
Azula  
~~~~

"I have another letter to send," Azula said, producing the scroll as she and Toph walked down the street to the market district.

"Seriously?" Toph scoffed, "It's only been two days since that last novel you sent out. I almost threw my back out on that thing. It was like a paper brick."

"Well, I'm just so enthusiastic about the myriad of new experiences opening up to me that I can't not tell all my friends at home about it," Azula said in a mock-cheerful voice, clenching her coat in her free hand to keep it from blowing off in the wind. "I am holding the letter out to your right side, about six inches from your arm. Feel free to take it," she added when Toph continued walking without acknowledging either the wind or her letter.

"I know where it is," Toph muttered, "Who's it to?"

"I wrote the address already," Azula said impatiently, waving the scroll next to Toph's ear. "Please just send it for me like the others."

A smile spread over Toph's face and she grabbed the letter, but kept it near her head, within reach. "I'm not so sure I should be doing that, now... How do I know you aren't planning some kind of coup? Maybe I should have Iroh read these over before just sending them off."

"That's not necessary. Return that." Azula snatched at the letter, but Toph jumped backwards, keeping it out of her reach.

"Guilty conscious, eh?"

"A young lady does not like to have her confidences violated by her postman," Azula snapped. "I am not very complimentary to my Uncle in my private correspondence, which is hardly a crime."

"Well, how ‘bout you tell me who you keep writing to, and then I agree to deliver these stacks of tree pulp safely and unopened?" Toph suggested, wiggling the letter teasingly.

Azula glared at her opponent and stuck her tongue out at her before answering. "It's to my... old classmate, Ty Lee," she snarled.

"The crazy acrobat girl?"

"Ah, you've met. I like to let her know how I'm doing. Keep in touch."

"She's never written you back, has she?" Toph asked curiously, tucking the letter into her bag.

Azula clutched her arms around her chest, leaning against the wind, which had started up again. "I pretend the letters get lost in the mail," she said simply, heading down the street again at a brisker pace than before, which was probably related to the wind.  
~~~~

Letter 11: Iroh to Zuko, Twenty-seventh Day of the Tenth Month  
Zuko,

I received your letter today. I am so sorry to hear about this new obstacle between you and your mother. I wish I was there with you right now, but I know you have the strength to get through this. And remember that I am always here for you, if not in person then in spirit.

I am concerned about Azula's reaction to the news, though. I have never seen her laugh so hard. I think she may be a tad hysterical. She seemed to think that you would hold her responsible for this accident, but I assured her that she had warned us of the danger in due time and no one could blame her for what was an unpreventable misfortune. I cannot say for certain if she believes me or not.

She went to the shop today, despite my offer to let her stay home. She behaved perfectly well, and even seemed in high spirits. Still, I am worried about her. I have asked Toph to talk to her when they go out today. She will probably feel more comfortable talking with a girl her own age.

Other than her outburst this morning, Azula has been doing better than expected. She has made definite efforts to control her temper at the shop, which is what I was the most worried about. The other waitresses think she is a bit cold, but we both know that for Azula "a bit cold" probably means she is putting her best foot forward. She has even been helping with chores around the house. She has asked me to send you "her regards." I apologize if this is some kind of inside insult I am unaware of.

Things are going wonderfully here. I have sent word to my old friends that I now have a permanent residence with a fully-stocked tea shelf and a pai sho set always ready for visitors. Several of the old customers at the tea shop have been asking after you, and I tell them all how proud I am of you.

Toph has asked me to remind you that she misses you (not in those words, but I take it you can fill those in yourself). We are both thinking of you.

Fondly,  
Iroh  
~~~~

Letter 12: Toph to Sokka, Twenty-seventh Day of the Tenth Month  
Dear Sokka,

Yo, long time no write. I know I said I would keep in touch and all, but whaddya want, I'm blind, and the servants the parents hired to fill up the house are, well, hired by my parents, I'm not dictating anything to them if I can help it. Not to mention, I'm still stuck in Ba Sing Se, we're not talking oodles to write South about.

But something just hilarious happened today, so I've roped Azula into transcribing for me. I'm like ninety-eight percent sure she thinks this is a great story, and if she wasn't writing for me she'd just be writing to someone else, so it's not like I'm wasting her time. I'm enclosing a note by one of the Parental Hirelings with clues to this letter's contents so you can make sure she's doing her job faithfully.

[note from the scribe: You and Ms Bei Fong have no need to worry on this count. As I assured her when I undertook the task of assisting her, I will write down her every word with perfect accuracy. You can trust me. I do not take my honor as a waitress of the Jasmine Dragon lightly.]

Are you caught up? Great, lemme know if I'm goin' too fast for ya.

So, a coupla days ago, Princess here set her hair on fire. I guess it was an accident. I mean, I can't think of any good reason to up and set your hair on fire. It wasn't even during the lunch rush, so it's not like she was skiving off work. Anyway, one of the waitresses has been very insistent that a nice pair of hair sticks'll sort this all out, but Azula doesn't own any and the waitress says using chopsticks is gross (personally, I can't see the difference between ‘em), so today after the shop closed up she (Azula, that is, not the waitress, although I think she kinda would've liked to have been asked along for the Girl Value of putting decorative things in Azula's hair) and I went out to buy some.

Before you say anything, Sokka, it's not like I wanted to go looking for hair things! I'd've been happy to leave her to the waitress and let her come back covered in glitter, but Iroh's kinda leery leaving her with strangers who don't know how to deal with her, and he's not goin' accessory shopping with her, and, well, Zuko's paying me.

[Scribe's note: at this point I expressed my surprise at this news.]

Well, not really, but being away from the parents is payment enough. Anyway, we had a good time, right? Are you writing that down? That's not part of the lette- part of- par- fine, play that game. New paragraph.

So we were out, having girl time in the marketplace, puttin' things in each others' hair and talkin' about how Azula's mother is still MIA, the usual, and we're in this crowded shop, poking through this hair-thing display with a ton of scarves and shit draped on it that pretty much hides us, when we hear someone talking about "the old man down at the tea shop."

Whatever Azula's other failings, I gotta say the girl and I think alike. We didn't even need to talk, we just both huddled into the hair-things and kept as quiet as possible, and good thing, because the gossip about Iroh is GREAT.

So it's this couple shopping for a vase for a housewarming gift or somethin', and the woman was asking her husband if he had been down to the teashop recently.

[Scribe's note: as I was present at the conversation in question, I feel I am within my rights to edit Ms Bei Fong's version of the conversation so that it more directly tallies with mine. This ensures that the following exchange is as close to the actual event as the two witnesses are able to make it.]

"Did you talk to the old man down at the teashop?" [SN: This is where Ms Bei Fong and I began paying attention to the conversation.] "He's always so kind. Is he doing all right? I thought I would send him some soup. It must be hard on him without his nephew around to help out."

"Oh, I thought I told you. His niece is staying with him now."

"Really? I didn't know he had a niece. It's never Lee's sister?"

"Must be, she looks just like him, except for the scar, obviously. She's a pretty little thing, but not friendly at all. Stand-offish, moody... well, you remember how Lee acted."

The woman thought they should give Zuko and Azula the benefit of the doubt, which I find hilarious because you and I know they really don't deserve it. "Oh, hush. He was a nice enough boy, they were just going through a tough time. It would be hard for any boy to have to leave his family behind like that. From what I hear he and his uncle barely made it out of the Fire Nation alive."

Azula totally jumped half out of her skin here, Sokka, it was awesome. I don't think she expected anyone to know where they're from. [SN: No, I must admit that was surprising. Although Ms. Bei Fong's assessment is a bit skewed. I did not jump. I think our friend is a little more sensitive to slight movements than a normal person and mistook my surprise for a dramatic reaction.]

"I'm surprised he went back at all, to be honest," [the man said], "Seems like that sister of his has the right idea. You wouldn't catch me heading back somewhere that'd hunted me with trained soliders for speaking up about the government."

What did you say here, Azula? It was great, I cracked up.

[I said under my breath:] "Someone's next vacation is going to be at Lake Laogai."

Heheh. Yeah.

The woman started off on a lecture. "It's his home, dear, and he clearly cares about it or he wouldn't have risked taking a stand or whatever it was he and his uncle did to get thrown out. I hear he's helping re-build his village right now. He's a very responsible young man, and I'm sure he and his sister are just having trouble coping. Imagine growing up in that kind of place! No wonder they don't know how to act in civilized society, poor dears. It'll do that girl a world of good to be somewhere sane for a while. I'll send her some soup next chance I get. Now, do you think this vase with the crane pattern would match the curtains?"

That was all for the gossip mill. Azula's heart rate was all over the place the whole time, but I don't think you'll understand how funny her reactions were. We slipped out when they started comparing pots. I love rumors. Not since Ember Island has so little information combined into something so off from the truth.

Bottom line I guess is that Ba Sing Se locals are as crazy as ever. Why couldn't Iroh have set up shop in a better location?

Uh, what do you usually put at the end of letters? Hope you and Katara and the rest of the family are doing well? Write soon? Don't let the ice get you down? Miss having you around, keep in touch? Add one of those and sign it for me, doll.

-Toph Bei Fong  
Transcribed by Azula, by request of the aforementioned.

Scribe's Post-script: Ms. Bei Fong has informed me that you will be disappointed not to know the outcome of our actual shopping mission and asked me to describe my purchases. I am sorry to disappoint, but I chose the plainest wooden hair sticks available. It is my understanding that waitresses are not supposed to be particularly fashionable. If Ms Bei Fong asks for my advice on choosing hair supplies, I assure you I will select something more fitting her stature. -A  
~~~~

Letter 13: Azula to Ty Lee, Twenty-eighth Day of the Tenth Month  
Dear Ty Lee,

I know I wrote you just yesterday, but yesterday was been full of revelations. One, Uncle has once again admitted defeat at the task of relating to me and delegated it to a twelve-year-old girl. (I am reminded strongly of my mother's strategy for raising me. Of course, this time I am forewarned that the unfortunate girls given this task are not actually seeking friendship, so I shall be a little more careful with Ms Bei Fong. Do not worry.)

Ostensibly, Toph had to accompany me shopping because I cannot be trusted unsupervised in a large city and because if I were given any money I might use it to equip myself with weapons and means of escape.

Now, I was happy enough to be out of the house and off-duty, but Toph and I have what I consider to be a purely professional relationship. Shopping for hair accessories loses a good deal of its charm when one's only companion is one's blind guard. For the purposes of consulting on how different designs suit one, etc, one may as well be alone.

Also, it is too cold and windy in this city for outdoor stalls to be a good idea, and the few indoor shops are crowded, disorganized, and cluttered. I shivered the entire time we were outside. My winter jacket is not warm enough to deal with these temperatures. Toph informed me that we are only in autumn and it will be much colder by winter. I hope she is winding me up.

I cannot say it was the most thrilling outing, but I am not optimistic about my opportunities for entertainment at this point in my life in any case. At least I now know how to make my way to the market district and back. I was not given enough time to make a complete survey of the area. I am acquainted with the sector that sells clothing, low-quality jewelry, and other decorative things. Perhaps I can convince Uncle to let Toph and I buy our groceries so I have more chances to explore the city. (He refused my request to go to the post office unsupervised, but I think he would let me out with Toph to babysit, especially if I were learning important commoner life skills like how to buy food.)

Toph is not one to dissemble, so it was not long before she got around to her mission from Uncle and attempted to determine what was behind my outburst of gaiety this morning.

"So, Iroh told me about your mother being stuck in the mountains all winter. That sucks."

I was bending over the counter of a stall, examining the beading on some elaborate hair sticks and trying to keep my teeth from chattering. "I suppose. I think Uncle is sending my brother a sympathy letter, if you would like to sign it."

"Well, I know Zuko's not taking it well, I was more wondering how you're getting on. I mean, I figured you were looking forward to having your family back together."

Having my family back together, indeed. As if I would be part of their I will forgive Toph this error, as I am sure her intelligence on my family comes from Zuko, but I almost started laughing again, which I am certain she noticed. (Toph is an incredibly astute observer. Quite a talent.) "You know that Zuko is older than me, right?"

Like most people, Toph reacted to this with startled laughter. "Oh, yeah. I totally didn't believe him when he told me the first time."

"Well, he and Iroh forget sometimes, too. They don't seem to realize just how young I was when our mother left. I do not remember her very well, and I cannot be expected to be very excited over her sudden re-appearance. So all this concern over my emotional state is really unnecessary. I have gone half my life without a mother, I think I have ample experience coping."

Honesty is the best policy. I could have made something up about how I am just too uncomfortable to show emotions or how I express grief strangely because of my traumatic childhood, or anything else that would let them believe I am normal. They may have believed me, but they may not have. By telling the truth, I ensured that nobody believed a word of it. After all, as I am sure Zuzu has informed the whole world, Azula Always Lies.

Whether Toph believed me or not, she evidently felt she had completed her job for Uncle, and let the subject drop, which is all I wanted. I do not have much experience in the typical prison system, but I do not think it is usually required for captives to talk about their feelings with their jailers.

The second, more interesting, revelation comes from an elderly couple Toph and I ended up eavesdropping on. Toph was as tickled by them as I was, and asked me to write out the actual conversation for her friends. If you would like the full transcript, it is on its way to the South Pole. You are welcome to ask for it. If I recall, your new fearless leader is the lover of one of the addressees, so I am sure you will have the opportunity.

The gist of it, however, is that there are some very interesting rumors about who, exactly, owns The Jasmine Dragon. I know I learned some new things about my family:

-Lee is not Uncle's illegitimate daughter. Disappointing, I know. Lee was Zuko's alias while he was living here. Toph confirmed this. Apparently the family resemblance is striking, so it is well known that Azula down at the tea shop is Lee's little sister.

-"Lee" and his Uncle were on the run from the Fire Nation after being chased out for political dissent. (Not to suggest that Ba Sing Se does not think highly of our ability to enforce the law. On the contrary, opinion is that Lee and Uncle must be quite talented to have escaped us.) He has returned to help his beloved homeland return to peace. Aw.

-Lee was forced to leave his poor sister back in the vile, soul-crushing Fire Nation, and now that the war is over, has sent her here to recover. He is a very considerate brother. I wonder what Zuko must have acted like while here to earn a reputation as so devoted to his family. The Zuko I know ditched his uncle to go home, threw his father in prison, and chained his sister to a pillar to take the throne only agreed to let his sister out of her cell if he could see what was in it for him. Really, if Toph hadn't said anything, I would be inclined to revert back to the Illegitimate Iroh Jr. Theory.

Iroh had an alias, I believe, but I do not think he goes by it any longer. The point is moot, because he is locally "the old man who owns the tea shop." Nobody seems to have connected that an Iroh and an Azula who also happened to be uncle and niece have been very influential in Ba Sing Se's recent history. I suppose they assume Iroh and Azula are common Fire Nation names and it would be impolite to cast aspersions on so nice a family who does so much for the community. For the time being, I will do nothing to shatter this illusion. The talk of how much good the civilizing influence of the Earth Kingdom will do poor, misguided Azula is too amusing to destroy this early. No one was ever foolish enough to gossip about the Firelord's family, at least, not where any of us could hear. I have lost many of the perks of being royalty, but at least I am still a public figure, after a fashion. I will have to find a way to overhear more of these rumors. This is much more fun than freezing and looking at hair accessories.

Two letters in as many days. My tips must go to keep me in ink and paper.  
-Azula


End file.
